


Space Syndrome

by sleepymarvel



Series: MST3k One-Shots [3]
Category: Mystery Science Theater 3000
Genre: Gen, Stockholm Syndrome, crow has a bad dream, gypsy is a ray of sunshine, joel robinson is depressed, lots of space and lots of stars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-31 13:30:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20115877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepymarvel/pseuds/sleepymarvel
Summary: He can imagine floating outside the satellite, escaping the suffocating hold of gravity, pretending he’s a professional on some important NASA mission rather than a lab rat trapped in a floating movie theater.





	Space Syndrome

Kneeling in the satellite's hold, rummaging through old boxes in a fruitless attempt at spring cleaning, Joel wonders why he’s so in love with space. He wasn’t before; before Gizmonics, before cheesy movies and goofy skits. He never looked up very often. He remembers those quiet summer nights he could just drive for hours on the open road and forget about everything, forget about the stars, forget about space, forget about his worries. He imagines driving his old beat up Toyota across the Milky Way.

Now, a man in a floating box surrounded by the void, Joel finds himself loving space more than he can even fathom. If he ever makes it back down to Earth he’s sure he’ll be homesick for the stars.

Discarded beneath a box labeled _hamdingers, _Joel finds a black and white space suit. He pushes the large box aside, somewhere he’ll probably forget later, and brings the suit into his lap to inspect it. It’s old, sort of like the type of spaceman suit you’d see in some cheesy sci-fi movie, but Joel finds himself wondering if it still works.

He can imagine floating outside the satellite, escaping the suffocating hold of gravity, pretending he’s a professional on some important NASA mission rather than a lab rat trapped in a floating movie theater.

Joel doesn’t think Gypsy would mind too much if he gave rocket number nine it’s much needed tune up, the poor girl was too over worked anyway. 

He looks out the window and stares past the satellite at the rocket, calculating the risks of using the old beat up suit. Joel wonders if it's the depression that even makes him consider it. It’s not like he has the luxury of an on-board therapist, despite the fact that Crow likes to put on the white coat and the glasses and pretend he has his doctorate.

Almost an hour later, Joel finds himself pulling the fishbowl like helmet over his head, locking in his oxygen, listening as the air rushes and whips around him.

The satellite doors slide open and he’s face to face with the cold of space.

Magic Voice is in his suit suddenly, like Jarvis in Iron Man. “Joel, are you sure this is safe? That suit has probably been up here since Woodstock.”

Joel grins sheepishly, floating up past the ship’s bridge and towards rocket number nine, “It’s alright, Ma’am. I made some minor adjustments. She should be in good working order.”

“If you say so, Joel.” Magic Voice sounds exasperated. Joel understands. “Gypsy is monitoring your vitals in case anything goes wrong.”

“Hi Joel!” Gypsy’s voice blasts through the suit’s speakers, she sounds a bit over-excited which makes Joel smile. “Don’t worry I’ll make sure everything is A-Okay!”

“Thanks, Gypsy.”

Joel sets to work on improving the rocket, tightening nuts and bolts on the control panel. He feels like a true astronaut in that moment, waiting for the key event that changes his life into a sci-fi movie and makes him a hero like Ripley in Alien.

When the rocket is all fixed up, he finds himself looking down at the glowing planet he used to call home. There’s so much light, _too much light_, so much that when he closes his eyes it almost feels like he’s inside of it. He can almost smell the fresh air all the way up here in space.

“Oh God.” Joel can imagine Crow saying, “All that light pollution! You’re lucky that you’ll be up here when those morons kill your planet.”

“It’s ridiculous Joel.” He imagines Servo adding, “If I were President, I can promise that all light would have a curfew. Tall buildings? Lights off after seven no exceptions. Fireworks? Banned except at my inauguration.”

Joel closes his eyes and imagines the look on Doctor Forester's face if he were to cut the cord holding him to the Satellite, fall down to Earth like a meteor, turn into a ball of brilliant fiery light. The mad certainly wouldn’t be happy having his experiment turn into a ball of space dust.

He opens his eyes. It’s late. Usually between midnight and six in the morning are his peek depression hours. He needs some sleep and a nice warm shower to make him feel better.

“Okay, I’m all set Gypsy. Take me back.” Joel pushes off from the rocket, floats back towards the Satellite of Love.

“Aye, Aye, Mr. Robinson!”

Joel re-boards the ship, listens as the air rushes back into the room around him, grounds himself as he regains ship gravity. He removes the fish bowl looking helmet and is immediately met with Crow who’s wearing over-sized pajamas and looking pretty darn goofy.

“I had a bad dream.” He says bluntly, “I need you to make it go away so I can go back to dreaming about Kim Cattral.”

Tom floats into the room beside him, looking over-tired and grumpy. Sometimes Joel regrets reprogramming them to regain their energy from sleep, though it did help that it stopped them from sword fighting in his cabin at three in the morning. 

“Sissy.” Tom snarks, “I don’t ever have bad dreams. I am the bad dream. I’m not scared of monsters; they’re scared of me. I am the fear. I am the danger. I am the one who knocks—”

“Cut it out with the Heisenberg, Servo.” Joel says, “We all have bad dreams. It’s human.”

Tom turns to Crow, “Yeah, Pinocchio. You’re a real boy now.”

Joel is so tired. He sets his space helmet down beside him, rubs his temples. He's really not in the mood for this tonight.

“Look!” Crow gestures towards Joel, “He’s so upset with us he’s not talking!”

“To be fair Joel,” Tom starts, to justify his bad attitude, “If Crow was jumping on your bed and yelling about the end of the world you’d be pissed too.”

“You dreamt the world ended?” Joel finally says.

“Well, I dreamt that you left us and went down to Earth and never came back and you only sent us Christmas cards but not even the good kind with music and there wasn’t even money in them!” Crow gestures dramatically for effect, "It was horrible, Joel."

“Seriously Joel?” Tom adds, as if Crow's dream was real, “There wasn’t even money in them? I'm sorry for calling you a sissy, Crow. I totally understand now.”

“Don’t worry. If I ever get back down to Earth you’ll get the most expensive, obnoxious, cards in the entire store.” Joel pauses, and now he’s saying it without thinking twice, “Anyway, I’d never leave.”

Crow and Servo look at each other like they both realize something Joel doesn’t. Then, without missing a beat.

“Joel that’s actually sad. I’m actually sad for you.” Tom turns and floats back towards his cabin. 

“I’m reassured Joel, but yikes.” Crow turns and follows Tom.

Joel’s alone again, standing half dressed like an old-timey astronaut, and he wonders what he said wrong.

Is it that he’d never leave?

If he had a way to get back to Earth he would use it, right?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm slightly nervous about this, but I hope you enjoyed! ♡


End file.
